Catholics who want to grow in holiness and virtue can’t do much better than focusing on the two pillars of our spiritual treasure — the Eucharist and Mary — which anchor us as little else can.
The Eucharist teaches us the value of presence, self-sacrifice and communion, and reveals the transforming power of the Holy Spirit. Mary gives us the model of Christian discipleship: She is the portrait of what it looks like to fully embrace God’s love and his will wherever we are.
One could spend a lifetime contemplating these two gifts, but we usually don’t get around to considering how they are connected. As the three-year National Eucharistic Revival in our country begins to ramp up, taking time to meditate on the eucharistic heart of Mary can enrich us.
We Catholics have done a bang-up job of linking what happens on the altar at Mass to the sacrificial death of Jesus that won our salvation. Mass is a perpetuation of Calvary: Through it, we stand at the foot of Christ’s cross and receive the life-giving fruit of his total gift of self.
But the Mass also perpetuates the joyful mysteries of Nazareth and Bethlehem. By the power of the Holy Spirit, called down at every Mass, bread and wine are transformed into the body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ. The Word becomes flesh in Eucharist; the Incarnation is extended to us. In this sacrament, the Son of God “pitches his tent” with humankind (cf. Jn 1:14), only now Christ comes to dwell not just with us, but within us.
The key to the synergy between Mary and holy Eucharist lies in this mystery of incarnation. The Angelus prayer can help us unpack it.
—”The Angel of the Lord declared unto Mary, and she conceived of the Holy Spirit.” One way to understand what occurred at the Annunciation is to realize that by carrying Jesus in her womb, Mary became the tabernacle of God’s real presence. Never before had the Most High been Emmanuel, God-with-us as one of us. God in the flesh.
—”Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it done unto me according to your word.” Mary’s fiat, her total embrace of God’s plan for her, makes the divine presence visible. After seven childbirths, I can attest that pregnancy is public, whether you want it to be or not. As the child within her grew, Mary became more than just a tabernacle of God’s presence. She was a living monstrance, as well. Pope Benedict called Mary’s visit to her cousin Elizabeth “the first Eucharistic procession.” Just as a monstrance reveals the Eucharist for our adoration, Mary’s body and her obedience to God’s will revealed the action of God’s extraordinary grace in her life. As Benedict put it, “The children exulted, the mothers exulted. … imbued with the joy of the Holy Spirit …”
—”And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” Mary didn’t keep Jesus to herself; she gave him to the whole world. Shepherds visited the stable where she gave birth. Crowds, disciples, religious leaders, pagan soldiers: Jesus lived among them all. Mary gave her son to all of us, placing his body into our hands. In a way, the Mother of God is the most extraordinary of all extraordinary ministers of holy Communion.
Of course, all this doesn’t end with Mary. By God’s grace, we are all tabernacles, monstrances and ministers. Like her, every baptized Christian is a tabernacle of God’s indwelling presence. Our bodies and our lives hold the hidden presence of God himself. And this is not figurative. As St. Paul writes, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own?” (1 Cor 6:19).
The choices we make and the purpose that guides us reveal this reality. We are monstrances when we choose self-sacrifice over self-interest, and when we accept our own suffering as a gift and willingly accompany others in theirs. We reveal the face of God by recognizing his image in every human being and by answering the call to follow him, to become more like the Master every day.
And more, we are sent to bring Jesus into the world as Mary did. We are not to keep Christ for ourselves or merely show him to others. We are told to give freely what we have freely received (cf Mt 10:8) — our Risen Lord, Jesus Christ.
Jaymie Stuart Wolfe is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother of eight.
